Our Man is a bit nervous. See, it’s all very well to show his sketches online to his, er, fan(s), but it’s quite another to meet a couple of artists for drinks this weekend. Proper artists, not piss ones like Our Man. They told Our Man to bring his sketch book. Yikes. After he had removed the shopping lists, he realised it’s a bit thin on his own work. So he has a couple of days to add Proper Art and Such. Hmm. His latest how-to-draw book (Playing with Sketches) recommends practicising by copying the masters at an art museum. But the only proper museum in Abiko is devoted to birds and Our Man didn’t fancy sketching the stuffed ones on the third floor. So he commandeered a weighty tome of black and white photographs (left on his shelves by a fleeing ex-pat) called The Family of Man (hey, guess that title worked in 1955) and ripped off, er that is to say, paid homage to p183 (below). Our Man realises he got some of the proportions wrong and he is a bit frustrated with his lack of technical abilitiy, but while not many of the sketches actually look much like their subjects, they do capture how they look to Our Man pretty much. Which is a start.